


Songwriting 101

by amandroid



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Community College AU, F/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Teacher/Student, performance anxiety, sexual daydreaming, spongebob references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-06-19 17:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15514962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandroid/pseuds/amandroid
Summary: When you sign up for a songwriting class, you aren't expecting anything but getting back into music after dropping band in high school. But as soon as you meet your teacher, everything changes. Might as well play everything by ear and see where the melody takes you...





	1. Syallbus

**Author's Note:**

> So this story is going to be a bit different than some of the stories I've written about before because I'm going to TRY to make a little more slow burn than my other stories. Hopefully, it works out but know I tried. Hope you like what I have so far ~*

“Hey, y/n!”

 

You’re standing in the middle of the hallway, more than a little preoccupied scanning the print-out of your classes one more time to make sure you’re actually heading to the right classroom. As soon as you hear your own name being called, you pull your head up and see your friend Rebecca waving to get your attention before trotting up to you.

 

“Oh...hey.” Lowering the paper, you smile lightly back at her. “What’s up?” you say as you start to fold your print-out back up.

 

“Just heading’ to my last class of the day,” and with that, she pulls out her own class schedule.

 

You scan the bottom of the paper and look up at her more than a little curiously. “You signed up for Introduction to Songwriting, too?” you say with an eyebrow raise, to which she shrugs.

 

“All the electives were full up, like...you don’t even know. Plus I already got my language credits. Figured it might be interesting…” With a mischievous grin, she nudges you and adds. “Or _easy_.”

 

You roll your eyes but you can’t deny part of you was hoping on something similar. If not being a total gimme, it might be a good cool-down class, hence scheduling it for the afternoon.

 

“Soooo...what do you know about the instructor?” Rebecca asks as she falls in step alongside you, checking her printout as you hand it back to her.

 

“No idea. Nobody I recognize,” you admit.

 

Rebecca sighs. “Probably a new teacher, right out of teaching college if we’re lucky so...probably a total pushover.”

 

You scoff, more than a little amused. “Shut up.”

 

The room is at the end of the hall of the music and arts building, one of the smaller lecture halls and not just an extra all-purpose room. When you both clear the wooden double doors, there are twenty or so other students scattered among the gathering of desks, the larger desk at the front standing unoccupied.

 

You both sit somewhere near the front and exchange a look of confusion, to which Rebecca lets out an overblown and pointed sigh.

 

“Somebody's _late_.”

 

Less than a minute passes until you hear the door click open and then closed and you look behind you as a tall guy with long curly hair carrying a shoulder bag and a travel mug strides through the rows of desks. At first, you think it's one of the students struggling to get in before the instructor comes in and counts him late...until he gets to the front desk, setting his bag and mug on the desktop.

 

“Whew! Sorry I’m late, guys!” He turns around and smiles disarmingly, ruffling his crazy mop of hair. “Don’t really have a good excuse except the copier decided to totally crap out on me, and on the first day of class.” He rolls his eyes and makes a face. “Heh. YIKES.”

 

He claps his hands. “So! My name is-”

 

Turning smoothly around, he writes on the whiteboard with a black dry-erase marker and sounds out the name as he’s writing. “Professor Avidan.”

 

After that, he turns back around, circling around to the front of the desk and leans against the edge of the desk, crossing one long leg over the other. “So, this is Introduction to Songwriting. I should say right off the bat, this isn’t going to be a...traditional course? Er, what I mean by that is you are going to get letter grades and things like that. This isn’t going to be totally freeform or anything but this is going to be a class to push or at least...y’know, nudge you out of your comfort zones so that means more hands-on assignments and exercises, not so many written essays and stuff like that. The way I have this class set is intentionally small and there are two...ish reasons for that. One, honestly less work on my end and two, from my own experience doing versions of this class with larger and smaller classes, the smaller ones worked out better overall and yielded more uh...heh, interesting results. I honestly chalk that up to that...I dunno; with fewer people, everyone feels more comfortable opening up and sharing, which is awesome. Songwriting, if you’re new at it and not used to performing in front of people, can be a bit scary but also very personal because you’re going to be asked to both writing and performing your own songs in front of the class. But that’s fine! Nerves are perfectly normal to have but overall, fewer people take away some of the pressure. We aren’t going to jump into that right away, though. Sorta do everything by degrees. Believe me, I won’t tolerate any heckling when other students are performing for the class...from _any_ of you.” He points around the room and laughs like there are no hard feelings but you can tell he’s serious about it, or as serious as he can be without potentially scaring everybody on the first day of class.

 

Professor Avidan takes out a stack of papers from his bag and goes up to your desk, towering over you before handing you a smaller stack, smiling briefly at you. “Can you pass these behind you, please?”

 

You blink and accept the stack, taking one stapled syllabus and then hand the rest of them to the desk behind you as you watch the professor stride past the other desks.

 

Rebecca does the same but as she watches the professor as he makes his way through the room, the look on her face says one thing: JACKPOT.

 

As if that wasn’t enough, she mouths “Oh my GOD” to you when his attention is not on you and you stifle a giggle. When he makes his way back to the front of the room, you both instantly clam up and sit up straight at your desks, trying to act innocent.

 

“Now I know syllabuses are boring as shit...syllabuses? Syllabi? Whatever the fuck. But yeah, it's the first day, need to at least go over it.”

 

You’re more than a little surprised at how...casual the professor is. You’re not a prude or anything and you’ve had professors before who weren’t exactly prim and proper before but not any professor that would liberally swear on the first day of class. That seemed to be an end of the course kind of thing when even the instructors were feeling frazzled during exams. 

 

As he grabs his own copy of the syllabus and starts reading through it aloud, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Thinking it might be important, you very slowly and gradually slide the phone out of your pocket so you won’t get noticed. Your bag is already on the top of your desk so it happens to be a handy shield as you put it behind the bag as you quickly glance your eyes over the front of the screen

 

**> does the D in D. Avidan stand for D A D D Y? >:)**

 

Your face screws up for an instant and your eyes dart towards Rebecca sitting next to you, who’s smiling more than a little overly pleased with herself and your face almost turns purple trying to stifle any involuntary giggles or noise of any kind.

 

**> Rebecca STFU. You’re going to get us in trouble :O**

 

**> we’re not gonna get in trouble, chill out. Btw, did you check out his butt? <_<**

 

**> BECCA JFC we should have sat in back if you were gonna act like this**

 

**> what and miss this tall drink of hotness? :P**

 

Another text immediately follows that

 

**> PROF IS PACKING HOLY SHIT**

 

You stifle a cough.

 

**> BECCA STAHP**

 

Despite yourself, your eyes glance forward towards Professor Avidan. He’s talking animatedly, occasionally breaking into chuckles like he can barely contain himself. He’s wearing jeans and a button-up chambray shirt, looking both casual and grown-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  

 

This is so immature, you think as your eyes go all the way down his slender body and panic flashes through as they dart down to his crotch, just as quickly darting away before he notices. Thankfully he doesn’t, his eyes on the paper in front of him.

 

_Crap, he IS packing!_

 

Your face colors.

 

**> SHIT WHY DID YOU MAKE ME LOOK?!**

**> Lmaoooo, this class is gonna be fun ;D**

 

Your eyes squeeze shut, only just barely restraining yourself from groaning aloud at your friend's shenanigans and giving both of you away but by then, Rebecca doesn’t send you any more texts. Thank god for that.

 

You follow along reading through the syllabus while Professor Avidan goes point by point, occasionally stopping to clarify something or to make a little joke. Soon, you stop paying as much attention, your eyelids starting to droop but not out of boredom. You don't really know if it's just the tone of his voice or rhythm of him just talking but there's something soothing about it, lulling you into a dreamy state.

 

As discreetly as you can, you shake yourself awake. You don't want to fall asleep in class, especially sitting where you are in the front row. You'd probably never hear the end of it. You WANT to pay attention, at least know what textbooks to rent. Taking a pen out of your bag, you start doodling in one of the blank spaces in between the blocks of typed text, if only to keep yourself awake. It doesn't seem like you need to because you can hear Professor Avidan start to wrap up his spiel of going through the syllabus and look up, wanting to make sure you catch everything.

 

He clears his throat, flipping to the last page. "Now, if you flip to the back, I’ve got a little questionnaire...thingy I want you guys to fill out. There’s no wrong answers or anything, just answer honestly. How much you know already about reading music, notes, chords, stuff like that. Then there's the, tsk, INTERESTING stuff, namely your 100 percent honest answer about why you signed up for this class and what you hope to get out of it. I know I’ll be setting myself up for a lot of smart-ass comments and I’m pretty prepared for that. Mostly it's for my own understanding. I know I’m not a perfect teacher or anything and I always keep tweaking things from class to class and semester to semester. I’m still learning the best way to teach and because my classes are small, it’s better to tailor things or adjust things so nobody falls behind and everyone’s on the same page. Plus don't feel like you're just going to be memorizing facts for quizzes and tests and you can just coast through this class. If you really, honestly feel like this class is not your speed, I'd rather you drop it before the cut-off date and have to suffer through y’know...me being me,” and he breaks off in a self-deprecating laugh, brushing his hand through his hair. "But yeah. What I mean is..." he pauses to suck his teeth in thought. "For example, your musical background is like...say you've done choir, some musical theater so you have that to add or you play guitar but you want to expand your repertoire and try out some different styles. Stuff like that. Or...I dunno. You took this class because it seemed fun. That’s also a valid reason. But yeah. Don't feel like what you have as far as previous musical experience won't help you in this class, even if you have just dabbled in writing lyrics. Even if I have to go and ask the other professor in the music department who specializes in songwriting, I'm just sayin': I can at least try to help you out with whatever problem or stumbling block you have, even if its one-on-one outside of class."

 

_One-on-one outside of class._

 

Your cheeks warm despite yourself.

 

“Bottom line,” he pauses before continuing. “I’m just curious and I do want to get to know you guys. This class is small and I do want to eventually learn everybody’s names so don’t try to impress me or write what you think I want to hear. I’d much rather you be honest with me. Think of it…” He rolls his eyes and gestures. “...as a prelude to, heh...venturing into the new waters of songwriting? Or something. Hah. All I really ask is be honest with me and most importantly...with yourselves. Plus...it counts as calling the roll.” He laughs to himself and makes a fist. “Nailed it!”

 

That comment is one of the few that gets the other students to laugh back and Professor Avidan takes some pride in that, it seems.

 

Soon enough, you’re back to zoning out and quickly fill out the questionnaire in the back and the spend the rest of the time continuing your previous doodle, putting more time and detail into a scene of a cute mermaid playing with a school of smiling fish.

 

Before you know it, Professor Avidan has declared the class to be over and you hear the other students leaving but you’re intent on putting the finishing touches on your over-elaborate doodle. This is your last class of the day and you’re not in a hurry to go anywhere afterward...until you hear throat clearing and you jump as you see a finger tapping on the top of your desk.

 

You jerk your head up to see Professor Avidan looking down and half-smiling at you.

 

“Um...heh. The class is over, sweetie.”

 

You blush and freeze in your seat.

 

“Oh...yeah. I mean...yeah, s-sorry...”

 

Professor Avidan hums, turning his head to the side to look at your paper, smiling at you. “Wow. Sorry, was I boring you?”

 

You choke, trying to cover your paper. You’re so used to teachers confiscating your drawings, it’s practically become a reflex. “NO! Not at all! I mean-”

 

Professor Avidan laughs. “It’s all good. The first day, going over the syllabus…’s  really not the most exciting thing in the world but I’m kinda obligated to do it, even if it’s just to let everybody ahead of time of what the projects are going to be and stuff.” He shrugs his shoulders. “So yeah, I’m pretty used to students kinda tuning out a bit. Probably should have spiced things up with one of my shitty Powerpoints but...too late now.” He gives another shrug and then scratches his cheek with a finger thoughtfully. “Can I see your questionnaire thingy...heh, since you forgot to pass it up.”

 

You tear away the sheet from the stapled syllabus pack and hand it to Professor Avidan and he tilts his head to the side as he scans through it.

 

“Okay, sooooo...you are familiar with music notation already.”

 

“Yeah,” you say with a nod of acknowledgment. “I took band in high school.”

 

He looks back at you, smiling suddenly with warm interest. “For real? What did you play?”

 

You shrug, your mouth twisting more than a little embarrassed. “Soprano Sax. And I know a little piano but...mostly sax.”  

 

Professor Avidan chuckles. “Well, I have the class set like it is for all skill levels but mostly beginners who aren’t familiar with taking music classes so...yeah. Good...to...know.”

 

He keeps reading and his easy-going smile goes down a fraction. “Oh. You said you quit band?”

 

You wince at the memory, growing warm around the neck. “Yeah. I had to because of my mom. She got c-” You hesitate and shake your head. “I mean...she got sick and band was taking up too much time so I had to drop it to help out around the house while she wasn’t feeling well.”

 

“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry to hear that. So…” He glances back at your paper. “You kind of wanted to take this class to get back into music but in kind of a...eh, different context than band.”

 

You nod. “Yeah...more or less…,” you mutter.

 

To that, he smiles. “Well...I hope I can offer you some challenge and heh...adjust things accordingly for you. I give you permission to draw mermaids the next class when I’m going over notes and staffs,” He chuckles and gives you a wink.

 

You blush again. “OH! N-no, I mean...I’ll probably need the refresher anyway…” You let out a nervous, self-conscious laugh.

 

“Alright, then. But yeah. Class. Over.” He sticks his hand out and makes a shooing motion to you and you finally get up out of your seat, gathering up your things.

 

“Okay, I’ll be here on uh...Thursday.”

 

“Alright then.” As he turns to tidy up his stack of papers, he turns back to you. “Uh, one more thing before you go.”

 

You stop mid-stride and turn to face him. “Y-yeah?”

 

He smirks and furrows his eyebrows in mild disapproval at you. “If you’re going to text during class, maybe... _don’t_ sit in the front row?” He holds his hands up. “I mean, hey: I’m not a fuckin’ Luddite or anything. I won't take phones away or try to make an example out of anybody. You guys are technically adults and stuff. BUT...I’ll give you pass this time because it's y’know...first day. Boring shit. I do expect _some_ level of engagement during class from here on in, okay?”

 

Heat flares across your face. The impulse to deny that you had been texting or make up a quick lie dies on your lips. You didn’t think you were being that obvious about it but apparently not if he saw right through you.

 

Shit! Maybe he also caught you looking at his crotch.

 

“Uhm! I...I’m sorry! It...won’t happen again, Professor Avidan,” you mumble an apology, hanging your head before he chuckles.

 

“Hey...just...calm down. I’m not a mean teacher or anything. Just FYI, this class is small so I notice everything, er... _almost_ everything.”

 

“Oh..okay…”

 

Professor Avidan looks up to some area just above and behind you, cracking a smile and giving a wave.

 

“Uh, I think your buddy is looking for you.”

 

You turn around and see Rebecca standing in the doorway giving you a deviously amused look and you turn back around before Professor Avidan scoffs out a laugh.

 

“See you Thursday.” and he does the shooing motion to you again.

 

You give a fleeting smile but say nothing as you trot down the row of desks to Rebecca as you leave.

 

“So...what was that all about?” she says with a conspiratorial hum.

 

“Uh...n-nothing. I just got...I lost track of time.”

 

“Oh. Did you get in trouble or something?”

 

“Uh...not really.” You think about telling Rebecca about being called out for texting but it’s not like she needs to be reminded to not text during class, especially in such a small class sitting in the front row. It was a monumentally stupid thing to do and you’re almost glad you got caught but thankfully not in front of everyone.

 

“Okay...well, that’s good. Unless…” A wicked smirk appears on her face. “You WANT to get into trouble.”

 

“What are you talking about?” A realization hits you. “Rebecca, PLEASE don’t try to…” You look around and lower your voice, saying through gritted teeth. “Hit on our teacher.”

 

She scoffs. “What? No...of course not. Just...maaaaybe one day I’ll wear a sliiiightly more low-cut top or-”

 

“Oh my god, Becca, DON'T-”

 

Rebecca cackles, more out of your scandalized tone than anything else. “Pffft! Jesus, y/n, I was making a joke! I mean, he’s a cute teacher. He probably gets hit on students all the time anyway, y’know?”

 

“I mean...I guess…,” you mutter.

 

If Professor Avidan was aware of you texting, he’d most likely be aware of anybody trying to casually or not-so casually flirt with him. It may be the first day but he seems pretty sharp and aware of what being a teacher is like and also what students are like and capable of, given the chance. The thought of that is a little unnerving. Definitely no sleeping or texting in class. For some reason though, the idea of doing anything bad in this class makes you feel more rotten than just being inattentive. Professor Avidan just seems so nice. A little on the dorky side, like a dad, maybe trying a little too hard to act cool, but...nice.

 

Despite that, you’re actually kind of hopeful. You hadn’t been lying. You did take this class to get back into music on your own terms and if the teacher happens to be cute...well, that was just a nice little bonus, right?

 

Though you can’t deny to yourself, being alone with Professor Avidan, if only for a moment, didn’t make your heart start to race, both the thought you were in trouble and just...him as a person, a presence. A man.

 

Heat reappears on your cheeks as you remember that he got your attention by calling you ‘sweetie’. Shit, was he just trying to be friendly or did it... _mean something_?

 

You reorient your train of thought. You’re jumping to way too many conclusions. It’s only the first day of class. Not even that; going over the syllabus. A freebie class. Thursday would be the first actual class. Deep down, you just want to be proven wrong, proven that he’s actually a good teacher. Maybe you’ll get something out of this class besides a bit of eye candy.

 

One could only hope.

 


	2. Green Tea and Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, you'll never guess who is ALSO your academic advisor.

Once you get home and have a chance to look through all the syllabi to your classes, you find yourself putting off looking at the one for your “Introduction to Songwriting Class”. Even just getting reminded of the class is making your heart start to accelerate but you bite the bullet and scan through it last.

****

In skimming through it, you realize you retained almost no actual information from reading the syllabus in class earlier. It's almost as if the words just slid right out of your brain like drops of condensation off of a glass. In any other circumstance, you’d chalk it up to being wiped out and distracted from a whole day’s worth of new classes to keep track of but you know exactly why you couldn’t focus. Not even giving in to the temptation of actually looking at him, something about Professor Avidan’s voice the longer he talked just made it almost impossible to pay attention to what he was saying. Your brow furrows in annoyance. You hope that isn’t going to be a constant in this class. You’re not going to get very far if you can’t actually pay attention to what Professor Avidan actually says, even if you can somehow try not to stare at him too much.  

****

Nothing you see actually throws you for a loop. You take out a stray highlighter on your desk and highlight the textbooks you need to rent as well as the supplies for class but as you flip through the pages, you come to a section marked “EXTRA CREDIT”, but that space, where the rest of the text would be, is blank. Just to make sure, you flip through the rest of the pages but get nowhere. It’s just strangely absent.

****

That’s weird, you think.

****

On the front, Professor Avidan has his school email and you toy with the idea of emailing him but decide against it. Maybe it’s nothing but a typing error, probably not worth bothering him over.

****

As you mull all of it over, you feel uneasy in hindsight bringing up, even just in passing, that you played in Band. You do still have your saxophone somewhere in your old house, probably stashed away in the attic, but using it for class hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind and even now thinking about it, it would probably won’t work for the assignments in class where you’d have to perform a song you wrote in front of everyone. As hard as it is to even admit to yourself, you find yourself wanting to...sing, even though you’ve never tried to sing in front of anybody, not even your family and not since you were very young. You don’t even know if you’d be any good but it’s something you secretly wish to try.

****

The next day you check your school email and find an email from your academic advisor. You scowl. Mrs. Copeland was your advisor last semester and she was notoriously hard to get ahold of and when you did finally end up meeting up with her, she was always acting like she had other things to do, even seeming exasperated that you changed your major. You end up dreading it all day, not even being that perked up when Rebecca meets up with you to have lunch and to catch up on your other classes. When you mention your appointment, she offers to walk with you to the building since she had, quote “nowhere else to be”.

****

You wince through the bright, early fall sun as you shuffle down the path to the administrative building when you see out of the corner of your eye Rebecca stop in her tracks.

****

“Hey, y/n, it’s Professor Avidaddy. Oooh, and he’s wearing GLASSES.”

****

“HUH?! WHERE?!” You pull your head up and turn it around so fast, you’re surprised you didn’t give yourself whiplash and you hear Rebecca sputter behind you as you accidentally hit her square in the face with your hair.

****

You do spot Professor Avidan standing not far away, his head bent over his phone wearing a pair of black rimmed glasses slipping just barely down the bridge of his nose. You still have a hard time recognizing him as a teacher, especially now wearing a black hooded fleece jacket and carrying his shoulder bag. 

****

You swallow with difficulty, your palms immediately start to sweat. Shit, It’s not enough that he has to be attractive, does he really have to add injury to insult by indulging in your secret fetish of guys wearing glasses?

****

“I...I actually need to ask him something...a-about the syllabus.” As you start to move toward him, you lurch to a stop. “Oh, but...he looks busy, maybe I-”

****

“Oh, no...if it’s important, you should ask him now before you forget since he's here." 

****

“Uhh...I guess but-”

****

Your protest dies on your lips as Rebecca starts to tug you towards Professor Avidan. Your legs lock for a moment in protest but you let yourself trail behind her.

****

“Hey, Professor Avidan?” she calls out and you flinch as he turns towards you both, smiling in recognition as he lowers his phone. 

****

“Oh...hey. You’re both in my...Intro to Songwriting class, right?”

****

Rebecca puts on a pleased smile. “Yup, that’s us. Y/n had a question about the syllabus…” She pauses and gives you nudge to start talking.

****

“UH...y-yeah...umm...it-”

****

“Oh, sorry to interrupt but...I like your outfit. It’s very cute.”

****

“OH!” You look down and sputter at Professor Avidan noticing your outfit: a dark cat print skirt and a white button-up blouse with cat lapel pins. You cough out a nervous laugh, blinking way too much to be casual and rub the back of your neck almost manically.  “Yeah, it’s just...sort of a casual lolita look that I...hah...yeah…”

****

Professor Avidan blinks at you. “Uh...Lolita?”

****

Your face colors. Professor Avidan wouldn’t know what Lolita is. Why would he? All most people would know hearing the word would be the book involving a guy creeping on a young girl. And you brought it up to an older guy as a younger girl. Shit! What were you thinking?!

****

“OH! I! I mean...it’s just a term for the uh...style…it’s just supposed to be..c-cute...and uh...it’s not REALLY related to uh the...b-book...” Even though you could stop it there, something spurs you to clarify it by adding. “I MEAN...I...I’m not...into older guys or anything! Like...that’s not why I...I don’t dress like that, l-like this because of I...I just like it, is all.” You end that statement out in a wheezy laugh.

****

Rebecca looks dumbfounded and lets out a cough to cut the leaden silence.

****

Professor Avidan blinks again. “Oh...so it’s a fashion thing. Okay. That’s kiiiiinda all the explanation I needed but thanks anyway for the, uh…” He coughs. “You...had something to ask me about the syllabus?”

****

“OH! YEAH! Uh…” You take a breath. “There was a section about ‘Extra Credit’ but it didn’t have anything on it so I was a bit...wondered what that was n’...and stuff…”

****

Professor Avidan gives a nod in acknowledgment, making a face and rubbing the back of his neck. “Craaaap, I knew I forgot to add something. But no, it’s cool. You’re not the first student to bring that up but eh...essentially, I don’t really have a set parameter for extra credit. Basically, I have the lesson plan laid out as it is but if you get an idea for something to do for extra credit, apply what we learn in class in a fun little extra thing, you can pitch it to me beforehand in an email or before class or something and tell me your idea. Either I’ll say ‘That’s great!’ or say it’s too similar to something we’re doing later on in the semester. Either way, I figure if students get inspired and go the extra mile, than...y’know. Call it extra credit. I have another little reward system but...I am going to talk about that tomorrow in class.” He pauses. “...y/n?”

****

You don’t answer. You’re not even looking Professor Avidan in the face, your face burning up with embarrassment. The only thing keeping you from bolting is Rebecca holding onto your arm.

****

“Oh, she’s...she’s fine,” Rebecca says as you neither move nor answer as if you’re not even there, which is fine with you. You really wish you could just up and disappear. 

****

“Okay...well, I actually need to get to my office. I have an appointment I need to get to. See you both tomorrow.”

****

You look up as Professor Avidan walks away before pausing about a yard away from you both and dabs in farewell before continuing to make his way down the cobblestone pathway and into the administration building.

****

Your face is pained as Rebecca snickers in disbelief. “Did...he just...DAB at us?” Once she's able to notice you staring at the ground, she gives you a small shake to get your attention. “Y/n...you okay?”

****

Immediately, your hands fly to your face, groaning loudly into your palms. “Ughhhhh, why did I say that? Why did I say...ALL of that?! Fuuuuck.”

****

“Oh...y/n...to be fair...I don’t think he thought you were serious.”

****

As she tries to put her arms around you to console you, you hang your head, muttering “I might have to drop the class.”

****

“Oh. Psh. Y/n, don’t be so dramatic. It’s not the end of the world.” As you look up and take your hands away from your face, she is visibly taken aback. “WOW, your face is like...SUPER red.”

****

“Is it?! Oh SHIT,” you groan again as she rocks you back and forth in place like a baby, which only makes you curl up, trying to nudge her off.

****

“Becca, stop...ugh. Stop treating me like a baby.”

****

“Okay, okay,” she laughs before releasing you. “I was just tryin’ to make you feel better. I should probably let you go to your appointment anyway so-”

****

“SHIT! You’re right!” You were so stricken and mortified by that you almost forgot you were going to see your academic advisor. “Uhm, I need to go and…”

****

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you later and...please don’t drop the class. I don’t know shit about music and you do so...I’ll need all the help I can get, okay?”

****

“Yeah, sure,” you hastily say, not really letting Rebecca’s words sink in as you lightly jog your way into the building and up the stairs.

****

You turn the corner and-

****

“JESUSFUCK!”

****

Professor Avidan is so surprised by your outburst that he jumps in his chair, staring goggle-eyed at you with his glasses sitting askew on his face almost ready to fall right off and hit the carpet.

****

“UH, I MEAN-”

****

Professor Avidan lets out a brief exhale to recover, putting a hand to his chest. He appears like he almost got a heart attack just from your swearing aloud before he chuckles shakily, adjusting his glasses. “WOW, that scared the shit out of me. The hell was that about?”

****

“UM…” You look over your shoulder and then back at him in confusion. “I...You’re not Mrs. Copeland. She’s my academic advisor and this is...her office...right?”

****

“Oh. Yeah, she transferred over the summer to another college, actually. Kinda had to shuffle some faculty around but yeah. I sorta inherited her office and some of her duties...” His mouth quirks to the side. “I don’t know why that would be such a shock. My office room number IS on the syllabus.”

****

You blink. “...it is?” You try to recall seeing his office number on the syllabus but if you do know, your brain refuses to give up that information right then and there. 

****

“Yeah, I mean...it SHOULD be...unless I forgot to put that on it too…” He leans over and flips through some papers on his desk before stopping, peering at you over his glasses before giving a small mischievous smile, his tone mildly scolding. “Y/n...were you daydreaming in class instead of paying attention?”

****

You start. You didn’t think your face could get hotter but it does.  “NO! I...I was paying attention! Honest!”

****

He purses his lips, unamused. “Even while you were doodling...AND texting?”

****

“I-!” Your mouth snaps shut. “I mean...the texting...I know I shouldn’t have but...the doodling...it just…” Your hands twist together.  “I doodle when I’m...trying to focus.”

****

At the last minute, you change what you were going to say. You were about to say you doodle when you’re nervous but that would mean admitting Professor Avidan makes you nervous, which he does but he doesn't need to know that. He can probably see it all over your face.  

****

Professor Avidan’s expression changes to one of curiosity. “Oh. I see. So that’s kind of the way you take notes and stuff?”

****

You give a nod and then realizing you’ve been hovering almost immobile in the middle of the room, you scramble into the chair facing Professor Avidan’s desk.

****

Professor Avidan sucks his teeth. “Okay. I’ll bear that in mind. No sense in giving you crap from here on in if that’s the case.”

****

Before he has a chance to say anything else as he starts typing things out at his computer, you blurt out, “UHM...I’m...I’m sorry for...all that stuff I said before…”

****

He looks up from his computer. “Hmm? Oh you mean the...Lolita stuff? Tsk. Don’t worry about it. I don’t really think it’s worth punishing any of my students for brain farts.”

****

“Oh.”

****

_Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t a-_

****

“What...what WOULD you punish students for? I mean...if you HAD to.”

****

“Oh…” Professor Avidan furrows his brow in thought before his expression softens and he chuckles. “I’ll let you know when it actually happens. Probably bullying or just...being actively disruptive in class. That kinda thing.” He sucks his teeth. “Gimme a sec. Just...pullin’ up your records right now…”

****

You briefly look around the office while Professor Avidan is busy as his computer. There are a few boxes sitting on the floor that looks to be full of folders and files but there are two bookshelves already set up half-full of books, mostly books on music but a few other nonfiction books as well as, oddly enough, the entire Song of Ice and Fire series by George R.R. Martin. The staccato pattern of mouse clicking and typing stops.

****

“You like books?”

****

“Huh?!” You turn back around to face Professor Avidan and let out a short laugh of nervousness. “I mean...yeah.”

****

To that, he smiles. “Cool. What kind do you like?” With a roll of his eyes, he adds, “I admit besides stuff related to music, the stuff I have is mostly fantasy books.”

****

“Oh. Yeah, I like fantasy.”

****

“Have you read the Chronicles of Prydain?”

****

You shake your head.

****

“Oh shit. You’re missing out. They’re REALLY good. As soon as I unpack ‘em, I’ll let you borrow them. At least the first to start with.”

****

“Y-you...don’t have to…”

****

“It’s cool. As long as you return ‘em, I don’t mind. Annnnyway...that’s not what you’re here for. So!” He swivels a little in his chair thoughtfully. “Just from your transcript, your grades are pretty good. Looks like the first year you were off to a rocky start but it seems to have leveled off at the moment.” He breaks off in a soft laugh. “You have to sort of fill me in a little on what your situation is. The transcript can only tell me so much.”

****

“Well…” Your fingers wring together in your lap. “I did change my major so there’s that…”

****

“Have you decided what you ARE majoring in now or are you still figurin’ that out?”

****

Your jaw clenches. “...no. I haven’t...figured that out yet.”

****

You look up to see Professor Avidan leaning back in his chair, twiddling a pen between his fingers. “Okay. So...I’m not actually a counselor or school psychologist or anything but...are you sort of putting off making a decision because you’re scared you might make the wrong decision, end up with a degree in a major you find you really don’t want?”

****

You look up, surprised. How did he just guess that? Are you really that obvious? “Uh...yeah. Actually….” Before you continue, you shake your head. “Nevermind, it’s not...important.”

****

“Oh? I think it’s important if it involves where you want to take your college education.”  

****

Your brow creases slightly. “It...I’m just...I messed up in high school. I could have...I don’t know...applied myself more even after my mom got sick but I just...everything just got completely out of my control and I didn’t even want to do anything and then...she died anyway so like...all the money that was going to go towards an ACTUAL college went to chemotherapy and by my senior year, my grades were so terrible, I couldn’t catch up and go to an actual four year so here was all I had and I can’t even...figure out where to go from here.”

****

You try to breathe through the sick anger that rushed through you, not expecting to dredge all of that up to Professor Avidan. Hell, you didn’t even realize you were still that bitter about it.

****

“Uhm...sorry, I didn’t mean-”

****

“Whoa, y/n, don’t apologize. That’s...pretty heavy shit you went through. Nobody should expect you to take something like that, your parent getting cancer and...not making it and still try to...y’know, do all that college prep stuff. UHM...do you want some tea?”

****

You look up. “Huh?”

****

Professor Avidan points over his shoulder to a Keurig sitting in the corner of his office before shrugging. “I mean if you want. I just figured you need something to calm down with...plus I was gonna make some and it felt...weird, I guess, to not offer you some.”

****

“Oh...okay. That’s fine.”

****

“B’okay.” Grabbing the armrests, he scoots his chair over the machine and pulls out two Keurig cups. “Is green tea okay?” he asks and you nod.

****

As the machine churns noisily, you look over at Professor Avidan’s desk. Mostly there's stacks of paper and a mesh metal pencil cup but sitting on the edge of the desk within arm’s reach is a small snowglobe with a stegosaurus figurine sitting inside, its head tilted up towards the dome of the snow globe.

****

You don’t know why your eyes are so fixated on it but snap to attention as Professor Avidan hands you a styrofoam cup of tea and he chuckles nervously. “I don’t have that many sugar packets so I put in two. I hope that’s okay.”

****

“Yeah, it’s...fine.” Two sugars are what you usually take, oddly enough.

****

As Professor Avidan takes a tentative sip from his own cup, he notices you looking at his snowglobe, his eyebrows lifting up over the top of his glasses. “Oh. You can...shake that around if you want.”

****

“Huh? Oh...I shouldn’t...touch stuff on your desk…”

****

Professor Avidan screws his mouth with amusement and snorts. “I mean, I put it on my desk TO mess with. You might as well. Plus you can’t break it. It’s plastic, not glass.”

****

Putting your cup on the edge of the desk, you reach out and grab the snowglobe, tilting it and letting the tiny grains of white glitter loose as they flutter around inside.

****

As you put it back on his desk, Professor Avidan’s expression turns strangely pensive. “Do you know what I sort of think about when I look at that? It is kinda stupid but when I’m looking at it, I try to imagine life in the time that stegosaurus was living. Probably just subtropical, swampy as hell. A stegosaurus would be long dead by the time the Earth was cold enough to get snow, at least the areas where it’d be living in any way. But...through some freak occurrence, it snows. When the temperature would drop, it’d probably end up immediately just PISHH, freeze to death but maybe, in the split second, the little window of time, it gets to see a snowflake just fluttering down onto its nose, see it’s whole little world covered in a blanket of snow. So in this dumb little snowglobe, it’s sorta moment preserved, just caught like a...fly in amber.” He chuckles and shrugs. “Or something.”

****

“Wow.” You take a careful sip of your tea, tasting more the scalding hot water than the tea itself. “That’s...deep, Professor.”

****

Professor Avidan chuckles again. “It’s just whatever. I actually was, believe it or not, studying paleontology, once upon a time but I didn’t end up pursuing it all the way to an actual degree.”

****

“Why not?” you ask.

****

“Eh. A couple of reasons. One...as much as I love dinosaurs and learning about them, the sad truth is all the studying in the world is not going to bring them back to life. You honestly can get just as much going to a museum and looking at the bones and fossils than anything. Plus I have an...issue with my sweat glands. I can’t ACTUALLY sweat and because I can’t sweat, I get heat stroke. So going after a career that would involve me going out to Utah or wherever, just excavating fossils, all day, in the hot, hot sun...heh, would have been a bad scene. Same sort of thing with Egyptology.”

****

“Oh. So...why do you teach music?”

****

Professor Avidan rolls his eyes a little. “It’s actually sort of a funny story. Paleontology and Egyptology were sorta my pet interests but music was the thing I was like...burning up inside to do. I wanted so bad to sing and play music and like..be famous but at the time, my Dad wouldn’t let me actually get a degree in that so I had to do something to at least fall back on so my first degree was actually in Advertising, which I didn’t even want. Only after I graduated and was off the hook did I try to do it but...it didn’t go anywhere. Not for lack of trying just...lot of different factors. So I went from band to band and then I met the other music teacher here, Professor Wecht. He was sort of doing music on the side but he was also teaching and one day he just offered to let me sit in on one of his classes and...it was so weird, seeing from the other end that kind of burning just...desire and passion to make music. After a couple times just observing, he was like ‘Hey, do you want to be my teaching assistant?’ and I had nothing better to do at the time so I took the offer and even subbed for him and then from there, he offered to help put me through teaching college and...here I am, with my own desk and everything.”

****

He sighs, slumping to the side of his chair. “Y/n, I’m probably the last person to tell you ANYTHING about what you should do with your life. Even as a teacher in a college, even just a community college, I SHOULD be telling you or directing you to some kind of degree and just shuttle you out of here into, y’know ‘adult life’ and stuff but honestly? A degree is just a piece of paper. It doesn’t define who you are or what you want out of life. There are options attached to it or certain paths open up but if you don’t go after them, your degree isn’t worth a goddamn thing. And I mean...it's fine to change your mind. You don’t need to make a decision right now. You’re young and you have all the time to figure it out for yourself. Hell, my class...if you want to go after music as a career, that’s great but if you just want to try it out and let it just be its own thing, that’s fine too. I’m not expecting every single student I teach to go out and try to be another struggling songwriter in a world that has way too many of them trying to compete with one another. If all you get out of it is an excuse to get creative and have fun and in your case, get back your own passion for music, honestly? I’ll consider that a win in my book.” He makes a face and sucks his teeth. “You still have to...y’know. Turn in your assignments and stuff but yeah.”

****

“Oh...yeah, of...of course.” You gulp down a mouthful of tea, absorbing it and everything Professor Avidan has said. Nobody, especially not Mrs. Copeland, ever told you that you didn't need to decide right now. If anything, everybody, including your Dad, had been putting pressure on you to actually make a decision only for you to panic and switch out of your original major two semesters ago. But now...it feels nice to hear. It was in fact, exactly what you needed to hear.

 

Your mouth flickers as you feel the tightness in your chest you didn't even know you had relax slowly. “Professor?”

****

“Yeah?”

****

You give a small smile. “Thanks. I needed to...hear that.”

****

To that, Professor Avidan beams suddenly. “Well, you’re very, very welcome. FYI, I think the whole college system is a bit broken and too focused on acquiring degrees without taking into account...y’know, people have TONS of things they love but maybe don’t want to spend their lives completely devoted to that thing. Like...I LOVE football but I’m the LAST person to ever actually get near an actual field to play. I’d break ALL my body before I was even done in training camp, let alone play the Superbowl someday.” He breaks off in a snicker. “But that’s fine. I’m not even all that disappointed I’m never going to sell out stadiums being the lead singer in a band. Getting to inspire students is still fulfilling to me, seeing all of you sprout like...heh, my little student-flowers,” and he cracks a small smile.

****

Right along with that, a weird flutter bats around in your chest like a drunken moth around a bulb. You let out a cough, trying not to let it show in your face. “Yeah, though seeing you play football would be...hah, REALLY funny.” As soon as you say that, an image pops up in your head of rail skinny Professor Avidan immediately getting dogpiled by burly quarterbacks and you chirp out a string of giggles.

****

To that, Professor Avidan laughs back, rolling his eyes with mock annoyance. “Tch. Everyone’s a comedian. But yeah. I gueeeess…” He runs a hand over his hair. “That’s all? Unless you have any questions or wanted to bring something else up.”

****

You try to think. No, that doesn’t seem worth asking. Then again…

****

“This is a weird question but...you weren’t wearing glasses yesterday. Can you see without them or-?”

****

“Oh. I just forgot my contacts this morning. I thought they’d make me look more like a professor instead of a giant Koosh Ball but...I just look like a slightly smarter Koosh Ball.”

****

You keep your opinion about how Professor Avidan looks with glasses on to yourself.

****

“Other than that…?”

****

“Uhm…well...you said in the syllabus-”

****

“Ah, so you DID actually read it,” Professor Avidan chuckles before letting out a cough. “But nah. Go ahead.”

****

“...like...to do the assignments where we’d have to perform for the class-”

****

“Oh. You could totally bring in your saxophone if you still have it.”

****

You frown slightly. “Yeah, but...I couldn’t sing with it. Like...write lyrics to go with a composition I wrote.”

****

“Hmmm. I can...make an exception in that case. Like you could just make your composition, in that case, an instrumental or collab with another student to sing the lyrics you wrote. Totally able to be worked around in this case.” He pauses and peers down at you. “Unless...singing IS something you want to do or...at least try out.”

****

“Maybe…,” you finally mutter.

****

“Okay. Well...we can get to that bridge when we cross it. We won’t be performing in front of the class for a while.”

****

“I just-” You interject before pausing, staring down at your knees. “I...want to...maybe, but...I don’t think I’d be a very good...singer.”

****

“Tsk. _I’ll_ be the judge of that, okay? You’ll never know until you try and...if you want, I can help coach you.”

****

Your cheeks sizzle. Great, more opportunities to be alone with Professor Avidan.

****

“I...I’ll think about it. I’m still...not sure..." Your voice is weak mumble. 

****

“That’s fine. No pressure. I’m not one to push any student who’s not ready buuuuut...on the other hand, sometimes all somebody needs a safe place to land when they jump out of their nest to test out their wings. So yeah. Either way, let me know at some point. I’m more than happy to help if you’re interested.”

****

You nod, swallowing a slightly warm mouthful of green tea. “Okay. That’s...all I had to ask.” You get up, trying not to look like you still have something on your mind.

****

Professor Avidan. “Alright then.” With a grunt, he leans down and you hear a drawer open in his desk. “Since you’ve been through a lot in this sesh, I think you deserve some Kisses.”

****

Your eyes bug out. What does he mean by that? Kisses on the cheek or…?!

****

“UHM…w-w-w...huh?”

****

He looks up at you and scoffs out a laugh. “OH, no, I meant the candy...kind. I have a bunch sitting in my desk.” With that, he pulls out a half-empty bag of Hershey’s Kisses and plops them on the desk, letting a few spill out of the tear in the side of the plastic bag. “Take as many as you want. They’ve probably expired or something but that’s whatever. I have way too much candy stashed in my desk as it is.”  

****

You blink a few times, trying to right your brain after it’s been dashed right off its track into the gutter. “Oh. OH! Oh-okay..” You stiffly reach out and take two or three Kisses, letting out a jittery laugh. No, definitely don’t call attention to fact that your heart is still racing.

****

Professor Avidan looks like he can barely keep himself from smirking. “I know I shouldn’t tease you but...s’all good since you said you’re not into older guys anyway.”

****

Heat explodes in your face and you swallow a gasp. “UH...I mean, YEAH. I’m...HAH. I’m...I’m not.”

****

Your hand closes loosely around the foil-wrapped Kisses so you don’t accidentally crush them.

****

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Go, just go before you make a bigger fool of yourself! Your brain screams at you but Professor Avidan’s almost devilish expression wipes away and turns apologetic. He sighs.

****

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that. It’s just…” he shrugs. “I don’t want you to feel bad about that stuff you said earlier. Honestly, I could tell it was an accident and…” He lets out a scoff. “You’re DEFINITELY not the first student to try and make a pass at me. I’ve...gotten used to it, unfortunately, but it doesn’t bug me. Well...it doesn’t bug me AS much anymore. I’ve gotten...pretty raunchy emails from students just…but yeah. It doesn’t give me license to potentially make you uncomfortable as a way to make things even or...just...in the future, let me know if I go too far, okay?”

****

You swallow and nod. “Okay, it...didn’t. I’m just...sometimes I don’t think about what I say and...yeah. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

****

“Well, I’ll hold you to that. Just, for now, let’s just try to get through this semester. No pressure on the figuring out a major thing, too. You have most of your core classes all squared away so it’s up to you where you want to go from there. Is that-?” Professor Avidan laughs softly. “I hope things are cool between us now because your face is still really red and-”

****

“OH!” You touch your face gingerly with your fingertips and it still feels hot to the touch. Shit! “Um...I-”

****

Professor Avidan chuckles and waves his hand at you. “You can go. You look like you’re ready to bolt anyway. See you tomorrow.”

****

You nod, somewhat clumsily, your mouth flickering in a smile of acknowledgment as try to sidle your way out of Professor Avidan’s office, jarring as you hit your foot on one of the boxes sitting on the floor before you’re able to turn and leave, trying really hard to not take off and run just in case Professor Avidan can still see you. Only once you’re down the hallway and sure you’re out of sight do you try to catch your breath, your cheeks buzzing with heat.

****

Dammit, why does Professor Avidan have to constantly throw you so off-kilter? You knew all that stuff you blurted out about Lolita fashion was a mistake but to get reminded of it after you were sure it was water under the bridge doesn’t stop your heart from pounding, wanting nothing more than to curl up somewhere and die from shame. And the look on his face, knowingly teasing you with the fact that you...you don’t even think of what you say as “making a pass” but that’s what it must have been. Your feverish brain catches that and plays back for you the expression on his face, his lips curled in a tiny smirk and his hazel-brown eyes lowering just behind his glasses, looking at you for a split second like...like...

****

You can’t even finish your thought. Sweaty hands shaking like crazy, you fight the foil wrapper off one of the kisses and pop it into your mouth before wildly power-walking your way out of the building.

****

_I should drop this class_ , a logical voice in your head babbles. _That’d be the saner option. Not go through this rollercoaster of emotions for a whole semester._

****

And yet. The need, the desire to actually fix this pain somehow is too tempting. Your mother, playing music, even wanting to sing; you know you haven’t let yourself cope with these feelings but instead shoved them away. If just talking about it made you so overwhelmed, you realize you really haven’t learned to deal with it. It still hurts, losing her and everything else along with it.

****

You feel a lightness around your eyes and squeeze them shut, fighting back the impulse to cry. Of all the things you remember from Professor Avidan’s office, you think about his dinosaur snow globe. A split second before everything would fall apart but in the present, just a serene snowfall, trapped forever in that small perfect moment. That’s what you want. A moment. Separate from everything else.

****

Your breathing calms. Shaking yourself off, you leave the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the name of the Reader's past academic advisor, Mrs. Copeland, an accidental reference to Stewart Copeland, the drummer for The Police and their song "Don't Stand So Close to Me" was one of a few influences for this story. Now you learned a thing.


	3. Good Noodle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you a Good Noodle?

Sure enough, later on when you’re in a much calmer state of mind, you check your email, rolling your eyes at your own short-sightedness. It had been an email for an appointment to discuss your academic standing but it wasn’t sent from Mrs. Copeland’s email address but Professor Avidan’s. You’d just taken it as a given that it was from Mrs. Copeland without even double-checking the email address. Had you not, you wouldn’t have freaked out so much over the fact that you’d maybe see Professor Avidan more often than every other day for class; even more if you did actually take his offer for vocal coaching.

****

Your heartbeat starts to quicken at the thought. If you weren’t so curious about actually wanting to sing, you wouldn’t be tempted to go through with it, afraid your imagination might get the better of you. Of course, nothing would happen but the thought of being alone with him in sends your heart racing again. But the thought of anything happening is just silly, you tell yourself. You just WANT something to happen, or maybe....part of you does. Worst of all, maybe you just don’t trust yourself to not do something yourself. Hit on him...intentionally.

****

Honestly, you’re not sure WHAT you want, you’re just sure anything more than you being his student and him being your teacher is too dangerous to even think about, even just hypothetically.

****

Even knowing that, you still can't help the flutter in your chest at the thought. What if you are actually terrible at singing and doing the vocal coaching won't actually do any good? Would Professor Avidan then have to be put in the awkward position of trying to tell you that in a way to spare your feelings? God, you do actually hope you're not actually going to be alone with him. You'd already feel nervous singing in front of him. What if you can't actually get anything out at all? Is Professor Avidan actually going to... _force_ you to? Is singing something you even really want to do despite the fright of doing it in front of someone else? Is it even a good idea in the first place?

****

Even with your mind spinning donuts trying to talk yourself out of the whole thing, a part of you remains resolute, even infuriatingly optimistic. You won't know unless you try. Maybe you aren't actually secreting harboring the voice of an angel and nobody will know except Professor Avidan but that's the whole point of vocal TRAINING, isn't it?

****

Talking yourself down from near apoplexy all night, you finally get to bed, only for your heart to start racing again as soon as you get up and get ready for classes. A split second decision as you get dressed keeps you from dressing up in anything loli because you can’t find the matching top to go with your print skirt.

****

You make a quick bowl of cereal and jump in your car to campus. As you park and go down the path leading inside the main building, you can’t stop yourself doing a quick glance around for Professor Avidan, just in case he catches you off-guard strolling around again. Only then when you’re sure you don’t see him in do you feel somewhat calmer.

****

Thankfully the rest of the day's classes are uneventful and you find yourself nearly forgetting what your last class of the day is. Once you’re dismissed does that expectant flutter in your chest begin again.

****

Your mouth twitching trying to hide a private smile, Rebecca joins you on the way to the classroom. Only when she asks a casual question about how the appointment went does your mood sour in the recollection and you end up telling her everything in a flat monotone. When you're done, you jolt as Rebecca sniggers next to you. 

****

"Oh my god, you're KIDDING me," Rebecca says and you immediately scowl in acknowledgment.

****

"No, for real, he's my academic advisor, apparently."

****

Rebecca breaks off in a snicker. "Well, yeah, that but...the kisses thing." and you groan.

****

" 'Becca..."

****

"I mean, no offense but I WISH I could have seen your face."

****

"It was EMBARRASSING! I think he's intentionally trying to goad me or something. Or maybe he's just secretly a sadist."

****

"...Heh. I bet you'd love it if he was." Without looking at her directly, you can practically hear the smirk in her voice.

****

"No I wouldn't!" you balk and your face blazes with indignant heat but Rebecca just laughs it off, albeit less so than before. 

****

"HEY. We're friends and we both have dirty minds. You're the one who told me you're in guys with glasses AND that y’know...that Daddy kink stuff."

****

You frown to yourself. Unfortunately, all of that IS true. What rotten luck. The only thing that could possibly make it worse is if he wore suits and ties and you have yet to see him wear anything that formal. Thank god for small miracles like that.

****

"Yeah, well...that's different! Those are just fantasies and stuff! I..." You huff. "I don't even want to think about it. At least he said he wasn't going to tease me anymore." 

****

"...Hmm. What was his office like?"

****

You blink at the change in subject and then shrug. "I don't know. It seemed like he just moved in. A lot of stuff was in boxes and stuff." The corner of your mouth quirks in thought. "He did have a lot of books, mostly fantasy stuff. Lord of the Rings and-”

****

"Ohhhh. So he's a NERD."

****

"Tch. So?"

****

Rebecca scoffs back. "SO...except for him being a teacher, he's like...your type, 100 percent.” Cackling, she adds. “How much you want to bet he has a folder on his computer that’s just sexy elf girls?”

****

You sputter at the mental image but Rebecca keeps going, bumping into your shoulder and putting on a low, gruff masculine voice.

****

“ ‘Hey y/n, you want to come over and watch the extended editions?' "

****

Your sputter gets louder as you half-hearted shove her off you. “Shut UP, oh my god. That doesn’t even sound like him.”

****

“Hah. No, you’re right. The extended editions are more of a third date thing.”

****

As you get inside the classroom, she pauses. “Oh...should we maybe not sit together?”

****

You eye her warily. “Unless you’re gonna try texting in class again-”

****

“No, I’m not! That was-” She pauses to sputter out a laugh. “But nah. We can...unless you don’t want to give Professor the impression we’re _bad girls_ or something. I won’t text you in class. Super swear.”

****

You roll your eyes “THANK. YOU. I’ve got enough to worry about.”

****

Rebecca smirks but says nothing as she sits down at an empty desk. 

****

Maybe as soon as a minute later, Professor Avidan strides into the room, setting his bag on the table. As he starts taking papers out of his bag, he pauses and smiles in your direction. 

****

“Hey. Not going Lolita today?”

****

You blink, glancing at one or two other students looking your way in curiosity. “Uh…” You turn back around to face Professor Avidan, glancing at some spot around his upper chest, away from his inquisitive eyes. “N-no...I don’t have that many outfits or anything…”

****

“Oh. Is it like...super expensive or something?”

****

Your eyes dart. “Kinda. If you buy brand stuff. Mostly I just buy one or two things and...mix and match them...n’ stuff,” you mutter and then trail off. Part of you is so tickled to actually talk about Lolita fashion with someone that you snap to the realization is that you’re bringing this up to your teacher. Your MALE teacher. Is he just trying to make friendly conversation?

****

“Ah. Good thinkin’. Yeah, I’m…” Professor Avidan sputters out a self-conscious laugh. “As you can tell, I’m not really well-versed in fashion and stuff like that. I should try to actually _dress_ like a teacher but there’s no real dress code. At least I know to keep all my super inappropriate T-shirts at home.”

****

For a moment you wonder what he means by ‘inappropriate’ but have no chance as he clears his throat and the omnipresent pre-class murmuring quiets, giving you an opportunity to get seated yourself.  

****

“So, hope you guys had a good rest of the day. I’ve looked through everyone’s questionnaires and the good news is most of you are somewhat familiar with music already. Only a couple of people make up the true beginner group.” Professor Avidan chuckles. “But that’s cool. The beginners aren’t in trouble or anything. Just means I can’t take certain assumptions on what you guys know or don’t know, which is fine. I do pace the beginning rundown of the fundamentals on what the general level is so at least everyone starts off on the same foot. The goal is by the end everybody should know the basic elements of music, the “grammar” of it if you want to call it that because music IS sort of like learning a different language. The chords, notes, and tones are words and sounds and then songs and melodies are statements or sentences and then songs are like stories, even if a song’s story isn’t anything grand or epic. Sometimes it can just be like ‘Hey, being in love is AWESOME! Let me tell you all about it, through SONG!’” and Professor Avidan breaks off in a bright laugh. “Songs don’t have to be more profound than that. I did briefly touch on this the other day but we’re mainly going to be focusing on basic pop music structures, so verse, chorus, verse, maybe getting fancy and adding a bridge but basically that whole thing. And yes, I know some of you might turn your nose up at that kind of thing but once you know how a basic song is put together, you can experiment and put your own unique spin on it. Everything sort of builds on top of everything else. At least, in the beginning, we’re going to do a quick and dirty rundown of the basics and then a small quiz after that. From there, the actual fun part.”

****

“Also I wanted to roll out a fun little incentive for class. Sooo…” He rummages around in his bag and pulls out a sheet of gold star stickers, holding them up. “These stickers, I’m going to give them out at the end of each class to the students that earn them. How do you earn stars? By being ‘actively engaged’ in class, mostly. It’s a little preschool, but nothing wrong with a little positive reinforcement. They are cumulative so I can’t take any away for bad behavior, you’ll just know you won’t get one at the end of class but! Ten of these bad boys and you can trade them in for a prize.” He waves the sticker sheet a little and weakly says “Yaaaay.”

****

Rebecca immediately raises her hand, startling you. “What’s the prize?!”

****

“Oh, you’ll just have to earn stars to find out. Adjust your expectations, though. I...pay for them out of pocket and I…” He winces. “Don’t know what kids like? Kids still like things like slap bracelets, right?”

****

A murmur of laughter moves through the crowd of students around you like a wave.

****

“So they’re Good Noodle Stars?,” Rebecca asks and Professor Avidan makes an exasperated face.

****

“Ugh. Why does everybody call them that?”

****

“Because that’s what they are,” Rebecca adds, more than a little amused and Professor Avidan just rolls his eyes and makes a loud, over-exaggerated groan.

****

“Okaaaay, if it helps, yes, they’re Good Noodle Stars.”

****

“Sweeeeet.”

****

In your stomach, you feel something perk up. The possibility of challenge and more than that...reward. In your mind, it doesn’t even matter what this nebulous ‘prize’ because it doesn’t matter. It’s something to earn your way to, something to prove you’re good.

 

With so many past classes where you were only barely in step with everyone else just hoping to get a passing grade, an instinct you hadn't felt in a long time rears its head; a furtive Hermione Granger teacher's pet instinct. It'd been it's strongest in high school, before your mother's cancer was diagnosed. You didn't like the attention it brought from your fellow classmates, always having the right answer, going out of your way to get extra credit even though your grades were already fine. You weren't doing it to spite them or make them feel bad or anything. It was the pride you felt, the praise of getting singled out and told you were doing a good job, getting A-pluses on tests or quizzes and feeling momentarily on top of the world.

****

You swallow. You're already at an advantage knowing the fundamental things like notes and reading sheet music but anything more creative like the actual songwriting, you'd be in the same boat as everyone else. Still, with the basics, you're already ahead of the curve and you didn't even have to do anything.

 

Then there's the elephant in the room. You had it confirmed yesterday that Professor Avidan has in fact been hit on before by students. Not only that but he's so used to it, he completely brushed it off when you did it by accident but Rebecca and everybody else doesn't seem to know that. Maybe they can guess but that's assuming a lot. Are people going to look at you funny or even give you shit if you try to go out of your way to be teacher's pet? Are they going to assume you're trying to get on his good side for more than just some Good Noodle Stars? You frown inwardly.

****

You snap out of your thoughts when you see Professor Avidan pull something small out of a pocket of his shoulder bag after turning on the overhead projector and a Powerpoint slide appearing on the board. He then pulls apart the object to reveal it to be a long telescoping metal pointer and then you’re given no warning before he brandishes it and brings the end of the pointer down onto the dry-erase board suddenly and sharply with a defending WHACK!

 

You don’t even have to look around because you can feel everybody else jump at the sudden loud noise because immediately you tense in your seat as if you yourself have been struck with it. You’re unable to stop your brain from taking that and going immediately to pondering if Professor Avidan was swatting that pointer against...something else. You know its definitely not something appropriate to even think about but your brain charges ahead regardless, spoiling out images and corresponding sensations of being bent over the side of Professor Avidan’s desk, also probably wearing some short pleated skirt. Of course, your mind would come up with something like that. The whole thing is so stupid and cliche but that doesn’t stop your cheeks heating up and your heart starting to thud just imagining it, squeezing your thighs together under your desk. You're not even consciously thinking about Professor Avidan himself saying he hasn't actually his students before but that doesn’t mean he never would in this fevered fantasy right out of a crappy porn: dizzily gripping the side of his desk as he circles behind you, hiking your skirt up, maybe even making you count how many whacks across the ass before you feel “punished” enough and then-

****

WHACK!

****

“Y/n?”

****

You stiffen all over, looking up to find Professor Avidan looking right at you and pointing to the board.

****

“Uh...y-yeah?” you squeak out.

****

“Can you tell me what this curlicue looking thing is?” A hint of a smile plays on his lips and for a panicked moment, you think maybe he called on you because he knew you weren’t actually paying attention.

****

Your eyes dart to focus to the area of the board the pointer is poised over.

****

“Uhhh….a treble clef?”

****

“Very good.”

****

After Professor Avidan turns his attention away from you, you really truly want to actually pay attention but your brain drifts back to the fantasy you've concocted, deliriously and sweatily draped over the edge of his desk after he's swatted his metal pointer across your ass who knows how many times. Definitely, enough to leave you starved and needy, your ass stinging and raw.

****

_"Please...Professor..." you’d pant. You don't even want to be punished like this but you know you need it. You have been bad, after all. Doodling in class AND texting. Very bad._

****

_"Tsk. Are you gonna behave in my class?" he'd murmur into your ear and you'd frantically nod, too spent to fight back but tense, completely aware of his every breath and movement behind you just in case the punishment might start back up again when your guard is down._

****

_"Yes, yes! I'll behave...please..." you gasp out._

****

_He'd cluck his tongue, seemingly unamused before pressing the cold tip of the pointer against your ass check, an involuntary hiss and whimper slithering from your throat at the pressure._

****

_"Turn around."_

****

_Your chest heaving, you do as you're told, turning around and grip the sides of the desk behind you, sure if you don't your weakened knees might give out._

****

_He'd stand before you before moving closer, nudging you until you're sitting on the edge of the desk and then putting his hands on your knees before wrenching your thighs apart. You gasp at his audacity but you let him. Deep down, this is what you want and he knows it. He can sense it coming off your body like steam as he looms over you, warm breath dancing on your skin, his glasses slipping ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose._

****

_Behind the lenses, his dark brown eyes darken with approval and his lip curls in a smirk as his wide hands smooth upward. "God, y/n..." he'd murmur, "You're so-"_

****

WHACK!

****

"Y/N."

****

You stiffen all over again. You hadn’t been conscious of your right leg jogging up and down under your desk but you stop immediately, trying to catch your breath.

****

"HUH?!"

****

Professor Avidan has his lips pursed. "Since nobody can answer this question and you seem so _eager_ to chime in, can YOU tell me where the Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, and Mixolydian modes originated?"

****

Your body relaxes a little. Thank god the questions he's called on you to answer you already happen to know.  "...Greece."

****

"Very good. NOW we can move on, thank God," he chuckles before turning around and clicking over to another slide.

****

You breathe out a heavy sigh. God, no more of this. You've been lucky, extremely lucky so far. You can't afford to space out again and risk Professor Avidan calling on you again and letting slip you're not actually paying attention to the lecture.

****

You try but your eyes become fixated on Professor Avidan's back as he draws his pointer around the board, traveling down to the attractive narrowness of his waist and spying just a tiny sliver of bare skin where his shirt has ridden up his back and God, his jeans don't leave much to the imagination either, drawn tight enough to show off the dimension of his small but perky ass, all but inviting you to reach out and smooth your palms over it.

****

Before you know it, he turns back around and you jerk to attention, sitting up straighter and trying to put on an engaged face instead of a passive, distracted one. At least a look that conveys you weren’t just thinking about touching Professor Avidan’s butt like a pervert.

****

You flip open a page of your notebook and write a few unnecessary words. You already know everything or at least are familiar with everything you can catch in between sexual daydreams. The thought of being so distracted you might doodle anything incriminating keeps you focused, at least until the lecture finally winds down.

****

Professor Avidan leans over his desk to click off the overhead projector and exhales. “Well, that’s just the overview. Next class, we’re gonna dive a little deeper and go over chord progressions, time signatures, and melodies. Hopefully, nothing so far has been too complicated. If you’re still lost, you can go over Chapter 1 of your textbook or shoot me an email.” He looks up and shakes his head as he can see a few people leaving already and waves his hand. “Alright, alright. You guys can go. Have a good weekend.”

****

As you try to beat a hasty retreat, you hear your name being called.

****

“Y/n?”

****

“Hmm?!”

****

You turn and see Professor Avidan, smirking and beckoning you over to him.

****

Panic rises inside you. Shit, maybe he did catch you not paying attention. Didn’t want to call you in front of everyone in the class, waiting to reprimand you one on one afterward.

****

Okay, calm down, you remind yourself. You made this mess, you might as well take your punishment. Your ACTUAL punishment, not your porny punishment that you were thinking about that got you in this mess in the first place.

****

You stiffly make your way to Professor Avidan, your palms going positively slippery with sweat.

****

“Y-yeah?”

****

Just as quickly, his smirk turns way down in mischievous intensity and he takes out the sticker sheet, giving it a little wave. “You forgot your stickers.”

****

Your shoulders slump with relief. “...OH. I...thought I was only allowed one.”

****

“Not necessarily. As many as you can possibly earn for paying attention.”

****

A nervous laugh bursts out. “Where do I-?”

****

“Your notebook is fine. As long they’re all in one place and you can keep track of ‘em.”

****

With a nod, you take out your notebook, opening to it the front and holding it out to Professor Avidan as he peels off two stickers and puts them on the inside cover.

****

“There you go. For now, you’re in the lead. Good job.”

****

“HA.” Your laugh is more unsure and nervous than before as you palm your notebook closed. “C-cool…” You try to swallow any impulse for your guilty conscious to blurt out the truth. You just got lucky. Really lucky. At least to his face pretend you're the good student you seem like to him. “C-can’t wait to see what the prize is…” and you try to eke out a grateful smile.

****

To that, Professor Avidan rolls his eyes, smiling a little. “As I said, adjust your expectations. The stars and prizes are only really extra. I really want to see you ace this class without ‘em.” and he ends that statement with a wink.

****

A ribbon of pride unfurls in your chest. _That’d be...nice._

****

In spite of that, you try to rein in the fidgety smile threatening to spread manically over your face. You don’t want to look too outwardly and unnaturally happy about that. "O-okay..." 

 

As you're about to turn and leave, Professor holds a hand up to stop you. "Oh and uh...if you know the answer to anything I'm covering, don't be afraid to raise your hand. I'm not a mind reader." 

 

You try not to make a face. _Yeah. Thank God for that._  

 

Instead, you try to smile with reassurance. "I'll try." That's about all you feel like you can promise at the moment. You're almost surprised you don't feel your nose growing. 

 

\---

After a whole evening trying not to think about it, the need becomes too much to ignore. Now more than ever, you find you DO actually want to do the vocal training with Professor Avidan. As soon as you're going into Gmail, you breathing starts getting shorter and shorter. You know once you actually send this email, you can't go back from this decision. It is what you want and it’s probably going to be difficult but you want to do it, want to try.

 

Taking a breath to steady your nerves, you type. 

 

**Hey, Professor Avidan**

**I just wanted to say that I think I might be interested in vocal training after all. I hope that's okay.**

**-Y/n**

****

You jump when you see a Google Hangouts window pop up maybe a few minutes after you hit send.

****

**> Hey y/n! I happened to be online and I figured this would be a little better than trading emails back and forth :)**

****

It's from Professor Avidan.

****

You have no time to type anything back out before he adds another message

****

**> So you are interested in vocal training after all?**

****

You swallow.

****

**> Yeah. I at least want to try it out. So...how do we do it?**

****

You make a face at yourself. That came out more suggestive than you intended. Goddammit.

****

**> Awesome! For one, it'd have to be pretty early in the morning, before class. If it's not too inconvenient, I can pencil you in about...9 in the morning starting on Friday and do it in the aux. music room. And don't be nervous. We can go as slow as you want. I just want to see at first where your skill level is and what you're capable of and then we can go from there :)**

****

_We can go as slow as you want…_

****

Your breathing gets impossibly heavy.

****

**> Okay. 9 is fine.**

****

**> Sweet! And since it's early, I'm fine bringing snacks or breakfast. Got any allergies or preferences?**

****

**> I'm allergic to strawberries. that's about it**

****

**> aww that's a shame ;(**

****

You blink. Is that supposed to be a frowning winky face?

****

**> yeah. it's no big deal.**

****

**> Hah. Don't sweat it. I'll think of something you might like and won't screw with your vocal cords. ;(**

****

**> okay. that's all I really had to say.**

****

**> Cool. I'll be around for a few more hours if you have anything you want to message me about. Got some French homework to grade**

****

**> you teach Songwriting AND French?**

****

**> Oui. studied abroad in France in college. I actually probably speak French more now than I did then. it's a wonder I was able to navigate at all with my mangled pronunciation, LOL**

****

God, Professor Avidan is full of surprises. Frustratingly hot surprises. Just the thought of him speaking French is making your breathing get funny, even if him using ‘LOL’ as a teacher and a grown man is at the same time so dorky, you can’t stand it.

****

**> oh I’m sure you’re fine.**

****

**> thanks. My accent is pretty atrocious but **I **try :)**

****

You worry at your lips. You should just sign off or give Professor Avidan some message to indicate that you’re done talking to him for now but something nags at you. Maybe it’s the fact you’re not speaking to him face to face and less likely to lose your nerve but you type it out anyway.

****

**> do you get hit on in that class too?**

****

Your heart is in your throat as you wait for his reply. Shit! Was that the wrong thing to say? Is that message too buddy-buddy to send to your instructor? Except for any emojis or silly text shorthand, it seems on its face something you’d text Rebecca but Professor Avidan replies.

****

**> lol actually yeah. I get more unwanted attention from teaching French than songwriting. Maybe it’s French’s reputation as a language of love that gets students trying to skirt that line and get me to say certain things out loud as “examples”. And before you ask, no I’m not giving you any examples ;(**

****

You find yourself giving a snort.

****

**> oh no, I wasn’t going to. I’ll take your word for it :)**

****

You have a moment to pause. Are you flirting with him? Shit, is he going to notice and say something about it? You need to get off the computer before you say something you might regret later, momentarily emboldened by the freedom of talking to him with words on a screen instead of actually speaking it out loud and getting trapped in his hazel-brown eyes and soothing voice. 

****

**> anyway, I need to get back to my homework**

****

**> Fair enough. See you bright and early Friday morning :D**

****

A few moments pass before you finally tear yourself away from the computer, your stomach full of frantic butterflies. Is this still the right decision or is it just too soon to tell? As you force yourself to turn in early, your brain is abuzz with possibilities before being lulled asleep by the rain outside your window. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a while, huh?  
> I wish I could neatly sum up my absence with "seasonal depression" but tbh, it's hard to differentiate from seasonal depression and just regular depression.  
> That's not to say I shouldn't just take some me time and I realize looking at it, it has been a couple of months since I've put up anything and yeah, nothing is really forcing me to but I still like doing it: crafting and working at something and reading you guys' lovely comments when it's up and posted. It feels nice: even when I'm struggling to feel good at what I'm doing in other areas of my life, the feedback makes me feel like less like a garbage failure overall, lol  
> I will say, I can't predict what I'm going to put up next. I need to shuffle some drafts around. In my absence, I haven't been working on nearly enough stuff and nothing else is *quite* finished yet. 
> 
> Since afaik, I can't directly link to my ko-fi, I GUESS just ask me for the link if you want to tip me.


	4. Do Re Mi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very good place to start...

The fact that you were supposed to wake up early completely slipped your mind from when you went to bed until morning. It rained all night and your bed was too warm and cozy to make leaving easy. Then there was the slightly insidious fantasy rooting its way into your mind, stuck in the valley between fully dreaming and fully awake. From the feeling of your sheets clinging close and the warmth under the covers, you’re imagining snuggling with Professor Avidan. You don't know what gave you the impression but he seems like the type that would be into cuddling.  ** **  
****

 

Even in that so-called innocent territory, your mind doesn’t stay there. Soon you’re burrowing further under the covers, trying to conjure the feeling of what his kisses would feel like against your bare skin, thrilling at the idea of what his stubble would feel like. You haven’t really been into guys with a lot of facial hair in the past but with a lot of things, it seems when it comes to Professor Avidan, it just makes him that much sexier. You purr at the thought of the feeling of his whiskers being more ticklish than uncomfortable and rough, maybe him soothing the abrasive feeling with tender kisses. Even though you’ve tried not to stare Professor Avidan, especially in a situation where he could catch you staring, you do know you’ve spent a fair time looking at his lips while he’s talking and now wondering if his lips would be soft.

****

You nearly jump out of bed when you hear your alarm go off and reaching a hand over to shut it off, you don’t get up right away. You groan and smoosh your face into your pillow.  

****

Frowning to yourself, you trying to weigh the pros and cons. You did insist on coming in early (maybe too eager to jump right in to really absorb just HOW early you’d need to get up to do it) and you DO want to do this. Maybe if it was any other instructor, you’d message back some excuse to cancel so you could sleep in. But...you do want to do this and you do want to see Professor Avidan, even if the thought alone is making your heartbeat quicken.

****

With a groan and a scowl, you slither out from under the covers and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth. As you’re heading back into your bedroom, the subject of what to wear springs suddenly into your mind. From the sound outside, it’s still raining so probably something warm. As you’re going through your closet, you find some rubber rain boots. The thought of intentionally wearing something even just casual loli occurs to you and you’re stuck wondering if you should go through that trouble; either for yourself or because you want Professor Avidan to notice, maybe even give you a compliment like he did the other day. Even if it took you by surprise and you had that spectacular brain fart trying to explain what Loli was, you were flattered by his compliment and even thrown off guard by him asking about it yesterday.

****

With a sigh, you decide on a pair of jeans and one of your cuter sweatshirts to go with your rain boots. You don’t have a raincoat to go with it but you have an umbrella in your car.  ****  
** **

 

As you get in and drive towards campus, you bite back a yawn, smacking your lips as the windshield wipers click rhythmically back and forth. As you try to stare through the misty barrier, you wonder what kind of 'snacks' Professor Avidan would bring. At this point on an empty stomach, anything would be good. 

 

You park your car and turn around, fumbling in the backseat for your umbrella before opening the car door, trying to open it before you get hit by any raindrops. There’s a satisfying splash as your feet hit a shallow puddle and you squint through the mist of rain to find where the auxiliary music room is, carefully stepping through the wet asphalt towards a side door.

****

The bar to the door creaks and you lean your body sideways trying to squeeze inside with your umbrella at an odd angle, drops of rain making it past the shield and splashing into your hair before you scoot inside, snapping your umbrella shut and shaking off the drops on the thin carpet just inside the room.

****

You're only standing there for about twenty more seconds before you jump as you hear something collide on the other side of the door on the far side of the room. There is both a groan and a mutter that sounds like someone saying "Hodor."

****

"Oh," you mutter to yourself as you rush to the door, turning the knob and pulling the heavy open as Professor Avidan steps carefully into the room with his back to you. 

****

"Hey," he says as he sways into a standing position, holding balanced in one arm a medium sized white box and carrying in the other a plastic bag through the loops on his arm and a cardboard cup of something that's faintly steaming. "Sorry. My hands were full." He hands you the plastic bag as he pulls the soaking wet hood of his jacket down. "Goddamn. I didn't think it was gonna rain all morning." He catches sight of your umbrella and gives a nod, still sounding out of breath. "Yeah. Good thinking. Fuck. I don't even think I own an umbrella." With that, he sets the box on a nearby desk chair.

****

Despite his apparent fatigue, a slight smile graces his lips as he rubs his hair away from his face with his free hand. "So! I thought before we begin the actual training, have a quick snack and then kinda...go from there."

****

He leans forward on one foot like a flamingo and flips open the box to reveal…

****

His smile is impossible gleeful as you take in a dozen fresh glazed donuts. "I hope you like donuts."

****

"Oh, y-yeah...I like donuts..."

****

You look around for a place to sit and Professor Avidan sinks, apparently heavier than he meant to by the way he grunts as his behind hits the floor. "The floor's fine. This room doesn't really have desks or...tables. Brian will probably lose his mind if I got crumbs on his piano."

****

As you carefully sit on the floor, you bring the box of donuts down with you. "Brian?"

****

"Oh yeah. Professor Wecht." As he takes a donut from the box, he pauses and looks at you. "I hope you're fine with plain glazed."

****

"Yeah, I'm fine with it."

****

"Good. Figured...I've already canceled my appointment with my personal trainer so call it a cheat day or something." As he takes a bite out of his donut, his tongue immediately sweeps the shards of glazed crust off his lips.

****

You blink and try to look away...and try not to think about his tongue.  "You work out?"

****

"Hmm. Yeah. And plus my health problems...so my doctor was basically no smoke...as in no smoking weed, cigarettes, anything...no alcohol, and no red meat so sugar is kind of my only vice left." 

****

You give a  thoughtful nod. That must explain the candy in his desk. "Is it low blood sugar or-?"

****

"Nope. Stomach...ah...issues. Some of it I don't miss. I didn't eat that much red meat before and I'm a total lightweight when it comes to alcohol. Smoking...haven't done it at least ten years and..." He snorts. "Can't exactly wake up, do a huge bong rip, watch Mystery Science Theater 3000 and call that a day anymore. Have...y'know...papers to grade."

****

"...um...how did your French homework uh...go?" You know you're only making small talk. You can't exactly follow that with anything about weed. You had one puff of a joint and it gave you a splitting headache. Still, that's something you didn't expect to learn about Professor Avidan, that he used to be a full-blown stoner. Or that he works out...

****

"Eh." Professor Avidan shrugs. "Ca s'est bien passe."

****

"Huh?"

****

Professor Avidan lets out a muffled chuckle. "It went fine. No complaints. Early in the semester so it was just a vocab quiz."

 

The spots of warmth on your cheeks grow. Wow, Professor Avidan _is_ good at speaking French. 

****

Professor Avidan breaks the silence after less than a minute. “So...what kind of music do you like?”

****

“Hmm?” You swallow a bite of donut. “What music do I like?”

****

Professor Avidan smiles lightly. “I mean, yeah. I’m just curious where you’re coming from, at least. I don’t really sweat stuff like musical genres in class so much in the beginning. It’s easier to wrap your brain around basic concepts like chords and melodies the more generally you think about it.” He lets out a cough and takes a sip from his cup and sighs. “But yeah. Tell me what you like to listen to.”

****

“Um…” Immediately you realize the music you’ve been listening to lately is video game music or orchestral covers but you stop yourself from saying that. It’s just way too nerdy to admit out loud. “J-jazz…”

****

Professor Avidan glances at you. “Yeah?”

****

You nod and frown to yourself. “Sorry if that’s not...w-what you wanted to hear…”

****

He laughs. “Oh no. I don’t judge people for what music they like. It’s just that Professor Wecht is more of a jazz expert than I am. Any particular kind of jazz?”

****

“Um…” You fidget. Now that you’ve come out and said it, you realize how much it seems to come off like you’re trying to be some kind of musical snob. “Well, in high school when I was in band since I was playing the sax, I just ended up listening to a lot of jazz. From there...sort of...fusion stuff like Frank Zappa and jazz rock.” You wince. “Steely Dan and then...went through a bit of a progressive rock phase.”

****

Out of the corner of your eye, Professor Avidan appears to perk up. “Oh really?”

****

“Yeah. King Crimson. Pink Floyd, Yes…” Your mouth twists. “Rush.”

****

“Oh damn. I’m lucky to get one person in my class who’s heard of Rush and you’re one of them. Cool. Now we’ve got some common ground.”

****

“Is that the kind of music you like?" 

****

Professor Avidan smiles thoughtfully from under his mop of hair. “Heh. Among other things. I guess in a general way, I like just about everything but mostly eighties stuff since that’s what I grew up with buuuut…” He laughs softly, rolling his eyes. “If I had to pick a favorite band or whatever, it’d be Def Leppard.”

****

You give a nod, at first at a loss to add anything before he continues.

****

“I know that’s outing me as an out of touch old guy considering Def Leppard is not ‘cool’ anymore but-”

****

“Oh, I…” You frown a little, taken aback by that statement. “I’m not sure I’ve heard of them. I might have, but-”

****

Professor Avidan turns his head towards you, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? They’re not THAT obscure or anything. You’ve probably heard at least one of their songs before, even just in a commercial or something.”

****

“Like what?”

****

Professor Avidan blows out a breath. “Well...maybe the most well-known song is…’ Pour Some Sugar on Me’.”

****

Surprising yourself, you pull out your phone and scroll through to find the Youtube app. “Okay…”

****

Professor Avidan lets out a laugh. “Oh, you’re lookin’ it up right now?”

****

“Yeah.” You pause for a second. “I’m...curious.”

****

“Okay. D-E-F L-E-P-P-A-R-D and then ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’. Fair warning, the music video is kinda cheesy but not as much as their other ones.”

****

“Okay,” you say again, more than a little unsure as you type everything out into the search bar. Luckily, the music video is the first or second result down from the list and you find yourself nervous before you click on it.

****

As you watch it, you’re not aware Professor Avidan craning his body towards you watching your reaction, the expression on your face an unconsciously absorbed furrow of concentration. You’re not really sure why. It’s not like anything you’re watching is confusing. Maybe it's because this really isn’t the kind of music you assumed Professor Avidan would like. Then again, you’re not sure what music he’d assumed he would like. Maybe it's more...lowbrow than you were expecting. You also find yourself concentrating harder than you should at the lyrics like there must be something to decode or something like you’re supposed to decipher. Maybe Professor Avidan is testing you. Since you’ve admitted to liking high and mighty intellectual jazz, can you “dumb” yourself down to something more simple? From a structure standpoint, it does seem more like the kind of songs you’d have to write for class. Verse, chorus, verse.

****

When the song finishes, you look up and startled to see Professor Avidan looking at you before laughing. “So yeah...what did you think? You seemed really deep in thought and...it’s not THAT deep of a song.”

****

“Oh…” You let out a cough to collect your thoughts. “Well, it’s...catchy. I’m just...confused by something.”

****

“Oh yeah? What exactly?”

****

“Well...it...it is a SEX song, right?”

****

_Oh no,_ your brain warns. _Where the hell are you going with this?_

****

Professor Avidan’s expression turns playfully bashful like he’s been caught. More like hoping you wouldn’t notice. “WELL...sort...of?” He laughs. “Okay, yeah. It is a ‘sex song’. The double entendres are...pretty obvious to anyone over thirteen.”

****

“So...it…'pour some sugar on me’...does it mean...since the singer is talking about a woman like…” Against any better judgment, you gesture with a loosely closed fist, waving it up and down. “Jacking him off and covering him in c-?”

****

“WHOA! Y/N!”

****

Every muscle in your body locks completely and you stop, your face bursting with heat. Shit, did you completely forget who you were talking to? You’re not bullshitting around, making dirty jokes with Rebecca. You're talking to your teacher, you idiot! 

****

“I’M SORRY, I JUST-”

****

From next to you, you can see Professor Avidan doubled over making halting sniffing and snorting noises that you start to realize are held back laughter as he rocks back and forth before a noise bursts out, a loud high-pitched and bright squeak like a dolphin chirp.

****

“WOW! Just...WOW!” He tries to catch his breath, rubbing his face before looking at you with his face pulled in an expression of amused disapproval. “ _You_ have a dirty mind.”

****

“I-!” Your face twists intensely. “I do NOT!" 

****

You are about to reach out and shove him but you jerk your hand back before you can follow through on that impulse. Again, completely something you’d do with Rebecca, not to your teacher.

****

Professor Avidan snickers and just shakes his head. “I need to keep my eye on you. And you need to keep a tighter leash on that potty mouth.”

****

Your mouth twists aggressively as if you’re trying to suck it in completely. Completely independent of your embarrassment, a furtive thought slithers in.

****

_Oh, you think THAT’S dirty?_

****

Immediately you dash the thought away.

 

Professor Avidan lets out a cough, wiping at the corners of his eyes but still letting out left-over snorts of laughter. "Ahem. I think we start this thing before you...y'know...say another dirty thing by accident." 

 

An indignant sputter comes out you but Professor Avidan just chuckles as he pulls himself up off the floor with a long grunt of effort. Quickly finishing your donut, you pull yourself up as well and follow him to the piano. 

 

As he sits, he motions for you to sit on the bench next to him as he drains his cup and tosses it in a nearby garbage can. Carefully you assess just how long the bench is and sit on a spot just barely off the opposite edge. 

 

He lets out a scoff. "I mean...okay. As long as you don't think you'll fall off." He pauses and blows out a breath, his expression far away and thoughtful. "So...this is a little new to me. I’ve had students want one-on-one help on specific vocal tricks but not actual training so lemme see if I can come up with something.”

****

Professor Avidan cracks his knuckles and flexes his fingers before placing them on the keys and playing a few notes lightly before he pauses and chuckles. “Okay, I think I got an idea.”

****

He starts playing a slow melody and sings.

****

_Let’s start at the very beginning_

_A really good place to start_

_When you read you begin with ABC_

_When you sing you begin with Do re mi…_

****

Professor Avidan catches a look at you and laughs at your expression, caught between wanting to laugh or cry.

****

“What?!”

****

“Uh… is that...’ Sound of Music'?”

****

Professor Avidan just rolls his eyes. “Uhh...YEAH? Look; this whole class is about getting you out of your comfort zone. So yeah, I'm sorry if this wasn't what you were expecting. Like I said, doing things like this is new to me too so let's just...I 'unno. Play it by ear. Plus it's a more fun way to learn scales."

****

_Do, a deer, a female deer_

_Re, a drop of golden sun_

_Me, a name I call myself_

_Fa, a long long way to run_

_So, a needle pulling thread_

_La, a note to follow So_

_Ti, a drink with jam and bread_

_Which brings us back to do_

****

You blink. You're not familiar with the 'Sound of Music' in the first place but the tune rings a bell, a faint bell from a few odd VHS tapes when you were growing up of sixties movie musicals. Now that you think about it, you always got 'Mary Poppins' and 'Sound of Music' mixed up, thinking they were somehow the same movie because they both had Julie Andrews in them.

****

"Kay. Your turn."

****

You make a confused noise that just makes Professor Avidan laugh. "C'mon. Just give it a shot." His lips give a mischievous purse.  "Unlessssss...you just wanted to do vocal training as an excuse to hang out with me."

****

Shit, he’s onto me! You blink even more rapidly. "That’s not why I-!”

****

"Pfft. Settle down. I’m just giving you shit.”

****

Professor Avidan presses one key, holding it down. "DO."

****

As you open your mouth, he interrupts you. "No. don't hunch over. Shoulders back and hold your head up a little more."

****

You worry at your lips and sit up straighter on the piano bench, lifting your head up.

 

"Better. Now, do you know where your diaphragm is?"

****

"Uh...is it that...birth control thing?"

****

Professor Avidan's mouth twists like he's trying not to laugh at you and you blush. "Ignoring that...your diaphragm in your chest, under your lungs. Put your hand over your sternum, it’s sort of a round, bony area sorta around here?” and he gestures to his own torso.

****

Unsure, you put your hand against the sternum, squashing your sweatshirt down.

****

"Now take a deep breath."

 

You do.

****

"You feel that area rising there?"

****

"Y-yeah."

****

"Cool. That's your diaphragm. When you're singing, you're not singing from your mouth or even your throat but from your diaphragm. Imagine you're..." Professor Avidan rolls his eyes in thought. "Okay, imagine your chest is a well and your diaphragm is the very bottom of the well. You're drawing the water, in this case, your breath, up from the deepest part from the well, not the top. Does that make sense?"

****

"I think so..."

****

"Okay so practice a couple of times, just breathing from your diaphragm, breathing aaaall the way up from the bottom."

****

You inhale and try to breathe from your diaphragm, trying to be aware of it rising from your chest before you break down in nervous giggles as your breath comes out in squeaking wheezes, feeling odd and light-headed. "Uhm...I'm sorry. I don't think I'm...doing it right."

 

Professor Avidan peers at you. "Do you have breathing problems, like asthma or-?"

 

"No...it's just...hard for me."

 

"That's okay. All I really ask is that you give it a try."

 

Your breathing is short. Even from where your hand is, you can feel your heart pounding and you're not sure why. "Yeah but...if I can't do it, then...this was a mistake. It's just a waste of time. I'm not good at it." You drop your hand to your side staring at the keyboard, your hands trembling. 

 

"C'mon, y/n. It's okay to have trouble with it at first. UM...are you okay?"

****

At first, you're not aware that you're starting to cry but when you feel hot tears slither down your cheeks, you wipe them away with your hand. "I'm sorry, I'm just-" Your voice comes out thick and almost incoherent. Memories start to flood your brain.

****

Your mom's piano was her pride and joy from as long as you can remember. It was just this large, imposing THING sitting in the den. When you were very young you knew you weren't supposed to touch it but that didn't stop you from crawling under it or trying to climb up onto the bench. Eventually, your mom saw you couldn't stay away and the sheer heart-stopping joy where she pulled you up one day and sat you on her lap to actually see the keys, the white and black spaced out in front of you. Then...

****

"UH...I'll be right back. I'll see if Brian has some tissues in his office," Professor Avidan blurts out, getting up and heading to the door. Leaving you alone.

****

You sniffle, trying to snort back the snot dripping out of your nose before trying to wipe it away. God, how could you be so stupid and just completely lose it like that?

 

You're not sure how much time passes as you stare at the keys, willing your heart to slow down. Pianos seemed so scary and formidable to you before. Even when your mom started to teach you how to play, you always had the feeling you were being allowed to touch it, that it wasn't yours. It was hers. You smile sadly as you remember that in a way to make you more motivated to learn, your mom buying you a Zelda songbook and helping you go through it before you felt comfortable enough to do it on your own. 

 

You try to think of how Song of Storms go and your fingers try to find the notes, picking the melody first hesitantly trying to search out the notes that sound right. You didn't realize it'd been so long since you've actually played the piano but the melody starts to make itself known through the unsure notes, finding the right ones. Despite yourself, you find yourself smiling as you play through the tune, getting lost in playing it over and over again. So lost that you don't notice Professor Avidan come back in, that is until you see him set a small box of Kleenex on top of the piano, right in your line of sight. 

****

Your hands jump off the keys as if being scalded.

****

“I’m sorry, I just-!”

****

“Y/n, it’s okay. Really. I don’t think Professor Wecht will mind that much if you play it.”

****

You pull out a fistful of tissues and blow your nose a few times. Looking around for somewhere to throw them away, you dump the crumpled wads in a nearby trash can.

****

“So...you only know a bit of piano?," Professor Avidan says cautiously as he sits back down. 

****

“Oh...yeah.” You clench your fingers. “How long were you listening?”

****

“Not that long. That’s from Zelda, right?”

****

Your eyes widen, looking at him in disbelief. “Y-yeah. How do you know about-?”

****

“About Zelda?” Professor Avidan sputters. “Okay, I’m old but I’m not _that_ old. I used to play it as a kid.”

****

“Oh.” Right, of course he would. Didn’t the first Legend of Zelda come out in the eighties? “Yeah, I sorta did too but not the first one. I had a Gamecube and-”

****

“Uh, I know you’re not apologizing for _that_.”

****

“Yeah, well…” You squirm in your seat. “I’m not that good at piano…”

****

Professor Avidan interrupts you. “You know piano chords?”

****

“Y-yeah?”

****

“Then...I mean, you know enough for class. Chords and melodies. That’s kinda the only prerequisite. Plus you said you can read sheet music so...it’s just singing that’s new to you.”

****

“And I'm not good at,” you mutter.

****

“Okay, y/n, you need to cut it out with that putting yourself down stuff. Seriously, though. It’s okay. This appointment was just to sort of gauge where your skill level is and learning to sing or even just breathe from your diaphragm isn’t easy at first. You basically have to retrain not just how you breathe but your posture. So I’m not mad or disappointed in you or anything. You did good for your first try.”

****

You try to smile but it won’t come out, at least not a genuine one. “I know. I just...got frustrated.”

****

“Well...I know I really wasn’t expecting you to be an actual virtuoso, no offense. That’s not usually the case in my experience. Even just someone who seems like they have a talent for singing may have some problems on how they actually sing that only someone with experience in vocal training and coaching and be like ‘Yeah, they’re actually not singing from their diaphragm, they’ve just gotten good at getting a certain sound from singing sort of shallowly, from their throat and they’re actually probably doing damage to their throat by doing that.’ I basically had to unlearn a lot of stuff that just came from practicing on my own at first, copying other people’s singing styles. All that to say...I get it.”

****

“It’s...not just that. My mom used to play the piano and…” You wince. “I have a lot of memories attached to her and that piano. How it...I dunno. It used to seem so big and so...omnipresent in our house and how I’d play near it because...it scared me but I wanted to be close to it, close to her. She did try to teach me to play and got me ready to do a recital and I practiced my piece SO much but when the recital came, I just...froze. Everything just got wiped out of my brain. Nothing would come out. I did sort of keep learning but I didn’t want to...be put in that position again, where it wasn’t just me and my mom but a bunch of people and I was in danger of ‘doing something wrong’ or I'd...screw up." 

****

You pull out another tissue and blow your nose. “I’m s-”

****

“Y/n, seriously. That is NOTHING to apologize about. I understand. You still have a lot of past emotional...y’know...stuff with your mom and that...that just screams classic stage fright to me. It doesn’t mean anything bad but when you’re young like that, sometimes that’s all it can take to make you believe ‘maybe I can’t do this’ and just completely internalize that.” Professor Avidan blows out a breath. “Wow, maybe I should have taken that psychology class when I was getting my teaching degree. Seems like the more and more we talk, the more buried your stuff is. I thought maybe it was just shyness but that doesn’t seem like that’s all it is for you. If...all this is too painful for you, I understand but...if you want to push through, we can still do that, just...much more gradually.”

****

You don’t say anything right away, just absorb it until Professor Avidan snickers. “You look like you need a hug.”

****

“Oh...I mean...probably.” You say that as a statement of fact but freeze as you feel an arm go around the top of your shoulders and you’re given a shake in place.

****

“That’s...about all I can do. Any more...I’d probably get in trouble.”

****

Blinking rapidly in surprise, you don’t say anything but you internally agree, though deep down you wouldn’t mind him actually giving you a hug. Professor Avidan seems like he’d give good hugs. Even though it was only for a second and the thick sweatshirt shielded you from much contact, you can still feel a bit of body heat and the fleeting pressure from his hand.

****

God, even that might get you and him in trouble. You immediately make up your mind not to tell anybody, especially Rebecca. She will absolutely blow the whole thing out of proportion. It was only for a second, it doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.

****

“You feel a bit better?”

****

You nod.

****

“So...how about this...if vocal training is something you still want to do...we can schedule weekly appointments. All you have to do is keep practicing breathing from your diaphragm on your own, work on your posture and then...maybe next Friday, THEN we can try some scales. How’s that sound?”

****

You let out a sigh. “Okay, I think I can...do that.”

****

Professor Avidan smiles and brushes a hand through his hair. “And maybe also...I can talk Brian into letting you use the extra music room to practice but after class and on your own time. He’ll be down the hall but I’ll let him know you need the space.”

****

A more grateful smile ekes out. Professor Avidan doesn’t have to do any of this but the fact he’s willing to give you all of this is giving you crazy flutters in your chest.

****

“...T-thanks,” you finally say, more than a little meekly.

****

“It’s no trouble. It’s more than I should do but what can I say? I know what’s like to feel paralyzed by outside forces telling you ‘No’, ‘You can’t’, ‘Give up’ and...I mean…” He pauses and scratches at his head. “You shouldn’t be scared to express yourself through music and helping you out...I mean, that’s why I became a teacher. I didn’t do it for the money. God no.”

****

Professor Avidan laughs a little. "I mean...yeah. If you're still up for it, we'll take baby steps. The semester will be over before you know it but this can be something we can on work toward together, okay?"

 

You nod. "Okay. I...don't know if I remember a lot of piano..." You mutter. "It's been a long time since I played and we don't have one at my house anymore."

 

"Well, as I said, you can use the one here. Just give Professor Wecht a head's up when you-"

 

Almost as if on cue, the door opens and a head peeks out. The man looks much older than Professor Avidan by the gray facial hair and the salt and pepper short hair. 

 

His intense blue eyes narrow. "Everything alright in here?"

 

You shrink a little.

 

"Yeah. Everything is good. Sorry I had to burst into your office and everything, Bri," Professor Avidan says with a laugh.

 

The man, apparently Professor Wecht, shrugs and steps further into the room. He's wearing a T-shirt and you're surprised as he crosses his arms just how hairy they are. "I mean, you said it was an 'emergency'...I think? I could barely catch it," he mutters drily.

 

"Yeaaaah," Professor Avidan says, cowed before brushing a hand over the back of his head. "Anyway, this is one of my songwriting 101 students, y/n."

 

"H-hi..." You say, your voice is faint and more than a little quiet.

 

Professor Wecht holds up a hand in greeting. " 'Sup."

 

Turning back to you, Professor Avidan says. "Well not to kick you out but I think that's a good place to end things for now. You can shoot me an email if Friday's a good day for these regular appointments and at the same time. We can tryyyy a little bit later but I'd have to move some stuff in my schedule around."

 

"No, I think the same time is good."

 

"Alright then."

 

Your heart sinks a little. Now that you've calmed down, you find yourself not wanting to leave, at least not yet, even if Professor Wecht's presence makes you a little nervous for some reason. Still, you know it'd be better than spending time completely alone with Professor Avidan. 

 

You heave yourself off the piano bench and gather your things, taking your umbrella. As you're about to leave, you turn to Professor Avidan, who looks like he's about to say something to Professor Wecht. He catches you. "Yeah?"

 

"Is it...fine if I...take a donut?"

****

"Oh!" Professor Avidan sputters out a laugh. "Of course it's fine. I think you earned it for being such a trooper." He gets up and hands you the box of donuts.

****

A trooper. You wrinkle your nose. That's just such a...Dad thing to say but you feel flattered all the same. Grabbing one of the loose napkins at the bottom of the box, you fish out one of the donuts carefully so the glaze won't get on your hands.

****

"Have a good weekend. Tuesday is more of the same basics stuff but take it easy until then, okay?"

 

"Okay."

 

You give Professor Avidan and Professor Wecht a wave and as you lean sideways against the door holding your umbrella, you brace yourself for rain, but look up to see it's stopping, leaving the sky a soft linty gray.

\---

When Y/n leaves, Dan lets out a sigh.

 

"So, what was that about?"

 

"Oh, just one of my students wanted vocal training and..." Dan winces. "Things got a little...intense."

 

Brian's eyes narrowed a little. "Intense? Intense how?"

 

Dan's mouth twists to one side. Maybe 'intense' was the wrong word to use here. "Well, not so much 'intense' as personal stuff. Like past issues with music and self-esteem. Stuff like that. I really think I should have taken that psych class when I had the chance but I didn't think I'd need it. I just...felt like I could have done more than just say 'stage fright happens to everybody', y'know?"

 

"True but...you know what I say about taking on too much..."

 

Dan groaned, more than a little jokingly but still in exasperation. "I KNOW, Bri-"

 

"No, I mean trying too hard to be a 'cool teacher'. It's fine getting creative teaching class but you shouldn't get too used to getting personally involved.”

 

Dan sputtered at the phrase but Brian continued.

 

"She's not...your _favorite_ , is she?"

 

"BRIAN!" Dan balked. "She's not my favorite! I don't HAVE favorites!"

 

"Yeah? Does she know that?"

 

Dan sputtered, this time at a loss for words. It was only the first week of class and she'd already gotten two Good Noodle Stars, even though he could tell from her glazed over eyes she wasn't paying that close attention to the lecture. Maybe she was bored by the supposed 'easy stuff' she'd have already known. Mostly he knew he couldn't tell Brian because that would mean Brian had proven his point. That he was right.

 

With a lurch, he remembered that awkward sideways hug. At the time, he knew it was something he shouldn't have done but his heart broke watching Y/n cry like that and feel so down on herself, knowing she was stuck in a cycle believing she wasn't good enough despite the evidence, what little he'd seen, to the contrary. He wanted to help her out, make her feel better.

****

_You touched a student_ , a low judgemental voice, sounding not unlike Brian's, sneered at him.

 

Already he tried to mentally negotiate it. It was just for a second. The gesture didn't _mean_ anything except reassurance. Awkward reassurance, but still. 

 

The fact that Y/n tensed soon as he did it floated back into his mind as if to taunt him. He realized if she'd just rolled with it, he'd be assured in thinking it was okay. A little out of the blue, a little blundering, but essentially harmless. No, her reaction expressed clear surprise and unease at being touched, by him or maybe just in general.

 

"You're...taking a long time to answer that simple question," Brian muttered.

****

"Shut up, Brian," Dan scoffed, giving a shake of his head. No, try to spin this around. Don't let him think he's gotten to you. "Anyway, I'm done arguing about this with you. Let me teach my way and you do things your way, okay?"

****

Brian blinked, his eyebrows raising a little. "Alright. I'll just let the IT people know ahead of time to keep an eye out for any dirty emails they need to delete from the school server.”

 

With that little dig, he turned and left, the door clicking closed behind him.

 

Dan scowled. Always had to have the last word. Asshole.

 

As he walked his fingers along the keys of the piano idly, his expression softened and a snort overtook him remembering Y/n referring to a diaphragm as 'that birth control thing'. And her 'interesting' assessment of "Pour Some Sugar on me". 

 

Okay, maybe not his 'favorite' but he found he thought her frequent foot in mouth moments honestly hilarious. But Brian had a point. She shouldn't get too comfortable saying that stuff around him, and he shouldn't be encouraging her to cross any lines, even just by accident and no matter how funny he thought they were. He had to nip this in the bud now before it got out of hand.

 

Despite his misgivings, he did actually want to follow through on his impulse earlier to give her a hug. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THEN. :S
> 
> Money's kind of tight rn so if you have the money to spare, you can tip me on ko-fi here: https://www.ko-fi.com/A2151A1I  
> If all goes as planned, the next chapter of "Easy Street" should be up soon.
> 
> Oh yeah, "Ca s'est bien passe" just means "It went well/fine". I don't speak French anymore, I just Googled it.


End file.
